I saw a five-year old dancing
Impromptu, imperfect, innocence, dancing
in movement of free expression, dancing
in the universe that is his playground, dancing
in ascending gestures above his head, dancing,
in unhurried time. His chubby, little fingers, dancing
in unsuspecting reaching up to tickle the clouds, dancing
in soulfulness without restrictions.
I danced like this five-year old, a long, long time ago.
we all did ― danced like this five-year old, a long, long time ago,
before we were forced to learn the formal dances: the dances that came
with certain steps to take, careful steps to follow, and the order of
the steps. We were forced to learn
when to step aside, when to follow in someone else’s foot step,
when not to take a step, when to lightly step around, tip-toe around,
when to ignore the fact that we were stepped over,
when to take baby steps, when to step back, (which is the most
common movement in dances these days.) When to step forward
will be less fashionable in future dances. It’s becoming obsolete.
But in old age I find
getting older is associated with the perception
of an increasing childlike mind,
and being perceived as a five-year old suites me fine.
So once again I am dancing,
Like a five-year old unreservedly, dancing
Impromptu, imperfect, innocence, dancing
in movement of free expression, dancing
in the universe that is my playground, dancing
in ascending gestures above my head, dancing,
in unhurried time. My wise, spiritual fingers, dancing
in suspecting reaching up to touch the heavens, dancing
in soulfulness without restrictions.
Thank God!
